A Winter's Sleep
by m.jules
Summary: River rescues Simon Mal rescues River.


**Title:** A Winter's Sleep  
**Author:** m.jules  
**Fandom:** Firefly  
**Pairing:** Mal/River  
**Prompt:** A cold river/pond.  
**Optional Prompt:** Mal combing out River's wet hair  
**Rating:** PG except for those Mandarin translations.**  
Spoilers:** None, really. Set sometime mid-series, definitely before "Objects In Space."  
**Disclaimer:** The Firefly characters belong to Joss Whedon, and he does a better job with them than I do, usually.  
**Author's Notes:** This is the first Mal/River I have written in ages, and I apologize right away for how rusty I am at them! But it was fun to get to talk to these characters again. Hope you like it! Written for Em Meredith's Bubbleficathon, for miladygrey's request. And also, I have this sneaking suspicion that I was using the wrong translator and the Chinese is actually Pinyin, not Mandarin.

* * *

Mal would forever remember the sound of wood cracking, of River's scream, of Kaylee's strangled gasp, and the crash of a body breaking the thin ice of the pond. It would haunt his nightmares for years, and if Simon never regained consciousness, it would join the soundtrack all his the ghosts in his head danced to. The ship was eerily quiet. The job had been a simple one - legal, even - and for once, the assignment itself had gone smoothly. Mal thought bitterly that he should have known he'd gotten off too easily. It was winter on the tiny little backwater moon, and he imagined he could feel the chill even inside _Serenity_'s walls.

He should be asleep; it was late at night, and there was nothing to be done. Kaylee was keeping vigil in Simon's bunk, keeping him piled under layers of blankets as though the warmth might undo the damage done by the freezing water and the blow his head had taken. Jayne was sound asleep. Inara was in her shuttle. The preacher might be awake, poring over his scriptures in his bunk, or else sitting with Kaylee, hands folded in prayer for the young doctor. Zoe and Wash were likely dead to the world. He hoped the doc's little sister was similarly occupied; the last thing he needed was a crazy person with no keeper wanderin' around in the middle of the night.

That was another reason he wanted Simon to wake up -- probably the main one.

The bridge over the pond hadn't been as sturdy as they'd thought and everything else had gone downhill from there. The doctor in town reeked of corn mash and Mal wouldn't let him within a hundred feet of his ship, much less his crew. They'd tried to lift off, to get to another world where they could find a physician, but the left thruster had gone out, sending them spinning for a few terrifying yards before Wash had brought the ship to a skidding halt on the icy ground. Kaylee had found the problem, but they needed a new part and had to order it from the general store. Now they were sitting still, helpless, waiting for the store's shipment to arrive.

_That's it,_ Mal thought with such bitterness that his coffee was sweet by comparison. _That's the last time I'm takin' a job that ain't breakin' some _yu ben _law or another. If the Almighty's going to smite me anyway, might as well be doin' somethin' to deserve it._

He heard footsteps on the threshold and looked up, unsure of who to expect. He swore lightly under his breath when he saw the doc's little sister standing there like a broken doll. She was framed in the doorway, half-illuminated, half-silhouetted by the soft light behind her, her posture the very image of tormented grace.

"Shouldn't be wanderin' around by yourself so late at night," he said gruffly, gripping the handle of his mug. "Mite past your bedtime, ain't it?"

"Simon's sleeping too much," she whispered, one thin shoulder lifting in an eloquent shrug. He was struck by how fragile her voice sounded -- so young and so old at the same time, like the boys in the war who were shattered by the things they'd seen. He was surprised to find himself wondering exactly what she'd seen that had pushed her that far. "One of us needs to stay awake. Ward off the wolves." She shivered. "Snow... snow's falling. Thick and heavy, just the way they like it, just the way the wolves--"

"Ain't no wolves out here," he said, wondering if his interruption sounded as harsh to her ears as it did to his. He had to admit, he was nervous without her brother here to rein her in; she was unpredictable, and what's more, he always got the feeling she was watching him, _expecting_ something, and it creeped him the hell out.

She stopped so suddenly, so perfectly, she gave the illusion of being momentarily suspended in time. "There are always wolves," she disagreed softly and his eyes snapped to her, narrowed in warning.

"That's enough." His voice was quiet, harder than the ice on the pond.

If she was bothered by his tone, she didn't show it, just stepped fully into the kitchen and settled into the chair across the table from him. He held her eyes for long moments, unnerved by the steadiness with which she gazed at him but unwilling to be the first to bend.

"Cold," she said finally, and he took a close look at her hand-me-down clothing. It was old, sure, but seemed thick enough for the weather. He opened his mouth to suggest a blanket when she continued in a far-off kind of voice, "Dark. Can't break surface. Can't come back."

Mal shifted uneasily in his chair. This was usually when he'd tell her brother to come get her, to take care of her, when she started spouting nonsense. He didn't know what to say to her, didn't know how to make things better, but before he had a chance to even try, she stood and turned back toward the door. Some part of him noticed she walked toe-to-heel, more dancing than walking, and thought how different her grace was from Inara's. "I'm going to find Simon," she said, her voice drifting to him over her shoulder, ethereal and lingering.

_Find?_ he thought, brow furrowing. "Ain't gotta look far," he told her. "He's just in his bunk."

She didn't acknowledge that she'd even heard him as she disappeared down the hall, and he sat back in his chair with a quiet grunt. His mind drifted back to the situation at hand, but he found it kept returning to _her_, to her words. Wolves, and snow, and... wait. _"I'm going to find Simon."_ He sat upright, his heart thudding a painful staccato in his chest. _"Can't break surface."_

"Oh, _shang di zhou ma wo xiang di yu_!" he muttered, lunging out of his chair so fast it nearly toppled, for once leaving his cup on the table top instead of washing it to return it to his locker. Some things were more important than a military orderliness he'd never quite grown out of. He clattered down the steps to the guest quarters to Simon's room, not really caring whom he woke along the way. He stopped at the doorway and stuck his head in, barking Kaylee's name so sharply that the young mechanic leapt from her chair at the bedside, wide-eyed and disoriented. He could tell she'd been almost asleep, but he didn't have time for guilt. "Did River come in here?" he demanded, and she nodded slowly.

"'Bout an hour ago, Cap'n," she elaborated. "Didn't say much, just sat here with me."

Mal let out a frustrated growl and began to move on when her voice reached out and grabbed him.

"Oh!" she chirped, one hand coming up to touch her lips. "When she was leaving, she did ask me kind of a funny question." Mal looked at her expectantly, willing her to just spit it out already. "She asked me if I'd ever thought about walking on water."

"_Er zi de yi ge biao zi_!" Kaylee jumped at the curse, but Mal was gone before she could ask any questions, running toward the cargo hold, toward the door, bellowing for Zoe and Jayne. He hit the button and sprinted up the ramp, leaping off the edge into the snow, too impatient to wait for it to lower completely. There was a sucking sound as his boots crunched through the icy snow to the mud beneath and then he was off again, following the prints of boots that had gone that way only minutes before. He felt his mind lurch with frantic relief that she wasn't barefoot, followed instantly by the grim desire that he wouldn't have cause to wish she were.

The world was strangely silent, all sound muffled by the snow on the ground, hidden by the soft sound of it beginning to fall again from a slate-grey sky. He could hear his heartbeat thudding in his ears and a chill that had nothing to do with the weather swept through him.

When he reached the pond, all seemed peaceful and still and he thought for one breathless moment that he'd been wrong, that she was on the ship, asleep in her bed where she should be. He hadn't checked there, after all. Then he saw a dark mass at the edge of the pond, a dark hole in the ice beside it, and his heart hit his stomach, frozen as solid as the water itself. He was by her side before he knew he was moving. She held something clenched in one fist, but what he noticed most was that her fingers were turning blue. He looked to her face, framed by hair that was crystallizing in the winter air, and saw that her lips bore the same ghostly tint. He shrugged out of his overcoat, wrapping it around her as he scooped her into his arms and stood, surprised at how little she weighed.

Still, it was struggle enough walking through the snow with his own weight to carry, much less the limp body of a teenaged girl, and sweat was breaking on his forehead despite the cold by the time he reached the ship, Zoe and Jayne coming down the gangplank to meet him.

"Zoe," Mal said gruffly, ignoring his mercenary's grumbling about temperatures and crazy people who went swimming in them, "Get the infirmary ready."

"The infirmary's cold and we ain't got enough blankets, Sir," Zoe argued quietly as she turned to follow him into the ship. "Inara's shuttle would be better."

Mal only hesitated for a second before grunting, "Best go wake her up, then."

"Sure," Jayne agreed, almost cheerfully.

"No," Zoe and Mal said together, and Jayne grumbled as he scratched a hand over his belly and yawned.

"Well, if y'ain't gonna need me, why'd you get me up for?" he whined.

Mal didn't bother trying to argue, just barked, "Jayne, go get the Shepherd." Jayne grouched a bit more but did as asked. He didn't actually mind the Shepherd, so it wasn't a bad duty.

"Think she's gonna need him, Sir?" Zoe asked, concern hidden in her stoic gaze.

Mal adjusted River in his arms as he began to climb the stairs. "Shepherd's had a bit of medical training. Need all the help we can get. Go warn Inara I'm comin' in, Zoe, and apologize for me -- I ain't got a hand free to knock." His mouth twisted sardonically and Zoe shot him a reproving look purely on reflex before she strode ahead of him to Inara's shuttle.

Despite his words and his rough ways, he did pause outside the door of the shuttle for a moment, waiting until he was sure he could hear Inara's voice alongside Zoe's. He didn't want the complications of catching the woman unawares. He looked down at the girl in his arms and felt his heart twist in helplessness. He couldn't help feeling it was his fault for not hearing what she'd been telling him until it was too late.

Inara's voice within, sharp with worry, snapped him out of his introspection and he stepped across the threshold, making sure not to hit River's head on the door.

"Don't mind my boorish manners," he said gruffly, stepping past her. He hesitated briefly by the bed, glancing at her quickly to make sure it was all right to put the girl there. He didn't see any protest in her expression, so he carefully lowered River's body to the mattress.

He barely heard Inara saying something about getting towels before he felt a cool pressure in his palm. He looked down to find a pearl-handled comb, far too delicate for his rough hand, and looked up at Inara. "What's this?"

"It's a comb," she said, exasperation weighing her tone. "Comb the tangles out of her hair. I'll be back with towels."

He didn't know where Zoe had gone, but when Inara swept out of the room, there was a muffled hush that fell over the chamber, leaving only the twin sounds of his breathing and River's. He held the comb awkwardly but reached out and took a section of hair with his free hand and began working the teeth through the tangles. There were still chips of ice there, but they were beginning to melt, soaking into Inara's silk pillows. He continued the motion, gradually growing more used to it, squeezing water out as he went, surprised at the strength of the protectiveness that swelled in him.

He let his eyes drift over her form, checking for any injuries he might have missed in the initial burst of adrenaline. His gaze fell on her hand which was still closed around something, and he reached down to gently pry her fingers open. In her hand was a small rock, presumably from the bottom of the pond, and he frowned. It was easy enough to deduce from her ramblings that she'd thought the reason Simon couldn't wake up was because he was still at the bottom of the pond. She'd gone looking for her brother. He sighed, curling her fingers back around the stone, and returned to brushing her hair.

He let the hand not holding the comb brush over her forehead, but jerked it back when he saw her eyes flutter open. Her gaze fixed on him, and before he could say anything, she held out the stone and murmured, "Found him."

He opened his mouth, not knowing exactly what to say, but at that moment Inara returned, towels in her arms, and the Shepherd on her heels.

"I'm sorry it took me so long," Book was saying. "I was in the process of checking the boy's reflexes." He stopped by Inara's bed and looked down at River, who looked back at him with wide eyes.

"Simon's back," she said, not a waver of doubt in her voice. Mal felt his stomach twist, his fingers going numb as he dropped the comb onto the bed. She was unstable enough as it was; when the Shepherd told her it was just her imagination she would --

"Yes," Book said with a warm smile. "He is."

"_Shu_?" Mal's head snapped up.

"The boy is conscious," Book repeated. "He is asleep, but it's a normal sleep. Kaylee is with him."

Mal looked at River and she looked back at him, a small smile playing on her lips. "Found him," she said again, quieter, and Mal nodded, swallowing. He felt her skin brush his and looked down as she pressed the small rock into his hand. "Thank you," she murmured, "for finding me."

Mal felt his face heat up and barely knew what he was saying as he murmured, "Next time you get it in your crazy head to go swimming, wait for summer, _dong ma_?"

She just smiled again, her eyes slipping closed, and he stepped away from the bed, giving Inara room to get to her with the towels. "I'm just gonna..." Mal said, gesturing toward the door. Inara and Book barely acknowledged it, focused on helping River. He walked out of the shuttle and headed toward his bunk, still processing the events of the night. Standing by his bed, he let his suspenders slide off his shoulders and reached for the buttons on his shirt. He paused when the motion reminded of him of the stone he held in his hand and he stared at its irregular surface.

For long moments he remained motionless until he finally shook himself and finished undressing for bed, but not before he put stone beside his gun and holster, somewhere it wouldn't be lost.

* * *

Chinese translations:

_yu ben_ - stupid

_shang di zhou ma wo xiang di yu - _God damn me to hell

_Er zi de yi ge biao zi_ - Son of a whore

_Shu?_ - What? Who?

_Dong ma?_ - Understand?


End file.
